


Human Touch

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Space, Artificial Intelligence, Fluff, Humor, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you happy, Peter?” the merc asks softly, almost scared, and the AI slightly moves his fingers to ‘meet’ his.</p><p>“My processors work better when I am with you.”</p><p>Space AU where Peter is the AI of Wade's ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Touch

“You know you are crazy, right?”

The commander glares at his engineer while sipping a lame reproduction of coffee; the scars marring his face shift as his brow knits and he put down the mug with a growl.

“What are you talking about, Weasel?”

The engineer, a scruffy man with a long face, round glasses and stubble on his chin, returns the glare.

“The AI. SP616.”

“Don’t call him like that!” the commander loses any trace of composure to roar and smash a hand on the table. “His name is Peter!”

“That’s the name you gave _it_.” Weasel corrects him, ignoring his rage. “It’s a machine, Wade! That hologram that appears every time you talk to him is just that, an image! Something to make it appear more human and reassuring.”

“He is not a machine. Not just that.” the commander of the ship stares into the dark pits of the mug, stirring the fake coffee with a finger. He doesn’t see Weasel’s disgusted frown. “He is a friend, okay? Way better than you!”

“He is programmed to say certain things! His words and the way he talks to you may sound nice, but he doesn’t possess a will! He talks like that because he learned that you like it after a certain number of dialogues and his circuits force him to say things that produce pleasure and happiness in a human!”

Wade grins at the other man before getting up and sucking the coffee from his finger.

“You just referred to him as ‘ _he_ ’.” he points out and Weasel flushes, two dark red spots on his gaunt cheeks. Wade’s grin disappears as he continues: “I am the captain of this fucking ship, Weasel, and I do what I want. If I want to be friends with an AI, I am friends with an AI. If I want to listen to your stupid complains, I will make sure to warn you so you can write down a list of shit to ruin my day with, okay?”

“‘Friends’ my ass…” Weasel mutters under his breath as the commander starts heading towards the door. “It’s embarrassing watching you two talk.”

“It’s not my fault he is so sweet!” Wade shrieks, raising his hands up in the air, spilling some coffee on the floor. “Holy Galaxy, Weasel, he is _kind_! He doesn’t look at me like I am some kind of fucking monster…”

“He literally _can’t_ …”

“He doesn’t judge me, but he is so _sassy_ and funny when he gives me advices! He jokes with me, but he never mocks me! He is not formal nor overly gentle, like those poor robots you can see on every planet, those that look like fucking servants or slaves! He is…”

“He learned to act like that after studying your reactions and emotions…” Weasel tries to explain, but Wade dismisses his words with a wave of his free hand.

“He has a conscience.” he stubbornly insists, now staring at the only window in the room, which shows the beautiful sight outside the starship. “He is my best friend.”

“Wade…” Weasel sighs, covering his face with a hand, but the commander ignores his frustration and repeats gruffly: “Mind your business and think about the ship. I don’t pay you to critique my life choices!”

“Oh, I would like to think only about this ship!” the engineer snarls. “Really, that’s the only thing I care about! This poor, fucking ship! But it’s not easy to work on it and all the diagrams I have to make when you are jacking off in the next room while moaning an AI’s nickname!”

Wade gasps, a hand clenching the expensive red and black uniform he is wearing.

“How _dare_ you!”

“It’s impossible not to hear that, Wade. Even Blind Al complained. She is blind, not deaf.”

This time Wade’s cheeks become red, but the effect is different from the one on Weasel’s face, because the deep, rough scars hide the blush and only random patches of skin look more flushed. Pursing his lips, the commander turns back to the window and exhales slowly through his nose.

“Maybe I am crazy.” he admits and a faint hope appears in Weasel’s eyes.

“Thanks God! So will you stop this? That AI distracts you so much and we already lost two possible clients! I can install another one. A new, simpler one that won’t learn from your responses and be only useful and neutral, as an AI should be. And…”

But Wade isn’t listening to his heated reasoning. He whispers, eyes lost into space: “I am crazy for him. I _love_ him.”

Weasel groans, drops his head on the table and groans again when it hurts. Wade ignores him, heading out of the room with a dreamy sigh and a heart full of worry and love for the AI residing in the cockpit of the ship.  
  


 

That’s where he goes. As soon as he sits down in front of the driving commands and the big window, the red circle next to his leather seat turns azure and a blue hologram pops out.

The flickering image is that of a young human man; his face is sweet, his eyes intelligent and lively, his smile polite. The blue-ish hue of the hologram doesn’t let him have any specific colour, but Wade likes to think that, if he was human, his hair and eyes would be brown, the same warm colour of nuts, chocolate and humid ground he misses so much.

“Good evening, Wade.” the AI greets him. Wade doesn’t think of him as SP616 anymore now; just a few days in his company and he was already calling him Peter, a name they chose together.

Wade never forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, treating him like a real person, a concept Weasel and Blind Al can’t seem to grasp. They are gentle with Peter, of course, but their respect is the respect one feels for a machine, the desire not to ruin it or be caught in the act of mistreating a simple object.

Wade isn’t like that. He is an asshole most of the time, he and his small mercenary team kill people for money, but he is never rude or cruel with Peter. The AI is the only one who jokes and banters with him without offending him. He is witty and always understands Wade’s references - which are very outdated, referring to a long forgotten pop culture Wade studied and enjoyed for hobby -, and his replies are always pronounced with an amused smile or harmless irony. He isn’t scared of correcting him, telling him he’s wrong and he patiently teaches and explains him things Wade couldn’t even imagine, not with his basic education caused by a shitty family and a shitty childhood.

Wade is super grateful for all of this. Peter makes him feel like a person, something he doesn’t feel to be like since he became a mercenary.

Peter is his best friend.

An artificial best friend he has a _giant_ crush for. Fantastic.

“Good evening, Petey. How are you?”

“My processors are working quite well today. What about you?”

“Better than ever!” Wade folds his hands behind his head and puts his feet on the console, admiring the space visible from the window. They are orbiting a small moon, waiting for a job. They already lost two calls and since they need money to maintain the ship - and _Peter_ \- in good conditions, as well as their weapons, a new contact would come really in handy right now.

But Wade doesn’t care. As long as he is with Peter, he doesn’t need food or water or the flavorless replicas of his favorite food he can buy only in super expensive supermarkets across the Galaxy. Peter is all he needs to feel good, full and complete.

“Don’t put the feet on the commands. We don’t want the ship to fly at maximum speed into the endless space, do we?” Peter says, furrowing slightly his transparent, slightly thick eyebrows.

“Oh, Petey!” Wade flutters his eyes, removing the feet from the console and putting his chin on the back of a hand, staring at Peter with a flirty expression. “Are you worried for me?”

“Well, _yes_.” Peter looks genuinely surprised by the question and blinks. Then his lips curl into the amused, sassy smile Wade loves so much and adds: “But you are so full of muscles and your head is strong as a boulder, so you would be fine. I am more worried for this poor ship.”

Wade pouts and pretends to be offended, glaring at Peter with half-lidded eyes.

“The ship is stronger than me.”

“I doubt it.” Peter smiles broadens and Wade has to fight his own. “I want to remind you that it can also be considered my house. You can move my chip wherever you want, but for now this is my location and if it gets damaged, I would be very pained.”

Wade’s pout turns into a sad face, trembling lower lip included.

“You don’t love me!”

Peter’s smile softens, as well as his voice, and he replies tenderly: “That’s not true and you know it.”

Wade blushes, the second time this day. It often happens when he is with Peter and he can’t do anything about it; the AI always says something that makes his heart burst into joy and the butterflies inside his stomach evolve and become freaking Pokémon (and a part of Wade’s mind muses about the longevity of that franchise).

He smiles back at Peter, hoping the AI can understand the feelings and emotions in his eyes, and reaches out for him. He always does, it’s one of their rituals, and even if he knows he can’t touch him and Peter can’t feel anything, he doesn’t stop.

His big, gruesomely scarred hand brushes against Peter’s, transparent, blue and incorporeal. Wade moves his fingers as if they are really grasping the AI’s and squeezes them. A strange shadow passes over Peter’s face and his smile slowly fades away, replaced by something Wade cannot comprehend.

“Are you happy, Peter?” the merc asks softly, almost scared, and the AI slightly moves his fingers to ‘meet’ his.

“My processors work better when I am with you.”

Wade smiles; he asks that question every day and every day Peter gives him that answer. His voice - not all robotic and metallic like other, more primitive AIs, but human and tuned - is always shy and melancholic, his eyes always casted down to observe their hands that aren’t really joined.

Wade ‘holds’ his fingers a little more, then pulls away, focusing back on the big window and the space ahead.

“I think I am going to take a nap.” he announces in a completely different tone, as if nothing happened. “That disgusting fake coffee is a total shit! We need to buy some decent stuff.”

“Do you want me to prepare a route for the nearest space station?” Peter asks, still sounding timid; Wade shakes his head with a yawn, folds his arms behind his neck again and rests down on the leather seat, eyes closed.

“Wake me up in three hours, would you, baby boy?” he requests (he never orders Peter around). “Hopefully someone will call soon and we will leave this shithole, ready to earn some cash.”

“Very well.” The lights in the cockpit lowers and Wade hums satisfied. He can still feel Peter’s presence and glow at his left and opens one eye. The AI is staring at him and he seems troubled, but as soon as Wade looks at him, his cheerful smile comes back and any trace of sadness disappears from his virtual features.

“Have a good rest, Wade.”

“Thanks, Petey.” the merc closes his eyes as the hologram disappears with a flicker, leaving the cockpit in a dim, relaxing light.

Two hours later, Weasel emerges from his office and workplace to head to the kitchen and refill his cup of fake coffee. The last diagrams to update some old parts of the ship are more complicated than he thought and he needs sugar to think straight.

To reach the kitchen, he has to pass through the cockpit and he does so with a frown, ready to hear terrible pick-up lines, lame jokes and see Wade’s eyes shaped like hearts.

He almost trips over nothing when he sees a completely different scene.

Peter - _SP616_ , his mind nitpicks - is staring at Wade, who is snoring on his seat in front of the console. The AI’s expression is one Weasel has never seen on him before; there are longing, sadness, warmth and a great, deep resignation written over his blue, holographic face.

He extends an arm and slowly passes it over Wade’s cheek; it takes him a moment, but Weasel finally understands what he is doing.

He is caressing Wade’s face.

The engineer gawks at him for a long while until he can’t contain himself anymore.

“H-Hey!”

If the AI had a skin, he would jump out of it. He doesn’t have one, though, so he can just jerk back and stare back at Weasel, startled, his eyes wide and round. For a moment, he looks incredibly human and Weasel feels uneasy, as if he has witnessed something precious and personal he shouldn’t have seen.

“I…” Peter starts, then stops and tries to regain the servile, measured composure he has around Weasel and Blind Al.

“Good evening, Weasel. I was checking up on Wade. On… on his scars.” He clears his throat, another human thing that an AI shouldn’t even think about doing, because it’s completely unnecessary. “Wade told me they hurt and itch a lot sometimes.”

Weasel knows he is lying - not about the scars, but about what he was doing. If Peter was really observing Wade’s skin, there was no need to reach out for his face.

 _‘It’s not like he can feel him…’_ Weasel thinks and then it hits him, hard like a bag of brick right into his guts.

“I… I see.” he murmurs, his voice raspy. He looks back at where he came from and adds anxiously: “I need to go back to work. Uh… let me know if someone calls, okay?”

“Of course, Weasel.” Peter bows his head and disappears.

Weasel is ready to swear in front of Galactus that the AI was flustered and embarrassed; he doesn’t even know how he saw that on that transparent, not real face, but he did and he quietly heads to Blind Al’s room with heavy limbs, a confused mind and a hammering heart.

The old lady is the one who takes care of their weapons, laundry and prepares most of the food in the fridge. She complains a lot, shows kindness only in extreme situations - just like when Wade got terribly scarred - and when she doesn’t want to do something, no entity in the entire Galaxy can force her. The only one who seems to get along fine with her is Peter.

“It’s because he is patient and knows how to treat an old lady.” Blind Al always repeats and Wade makes sure to point out: “Of course he does! He is a gentleman!”

It’s the only point they agree on. They spend the rest of their days arguing over weapons, calibrations, clothes to wear and missions to accept or refuse. Weasel has learned since a long time that it’s better not to intervene.

He knocks at the white door and almost flinches when it opens, too distracted by the scene he saw to understand what he is really doing and what is going on around him. Blind Al is sitting at her desk, knitting what looks to be a scarf. She uses her fingers to guide herself along the threads and Weasel takes a second to admire her patience and skills.

“What do you want?” the old woman asks in her usual gruff tone.

“I’d like to talk.”

Blind Al raises her head; she always wears a pair of retro, old-fashioned sunglasses, so her eyes are not visible, but Weasel knows she has settled them on him.

“Good Lord, what’s happening? You sound like shit.”

“Well, I… I just saw something and…”

Blind Al snorts, going back to her knit work. “Did you see Wade jacking off in the cockpit? Does he really have no shame anymore?”

“N-No, it’s not that. I don’t think he has enough courage to masturbate in front of the AI.”

“Christ, I hope so.”

Weasel enters the room, pressing a button to close the door behind himself. Blind Al’s room isn’t very large, but since she is at her desk the bed is free, so Weasel sits on the edge of it, careful not to spill coffee on it or the floor.

“Peter… umh, the AI, SP616… he… _it_ … urgh…”

“Just call him Peter, it’s way easier.” the woman moves her chair to face Weasel, knowing where he is. There is a smile on her face that makes it even more wrinkled.

“ _He_ may be an AI, but he is a good AI and deserves to be called as he most likes.”

“Does he want to be called Peter? I thought it was just Wade’s stupid idea.”

Blind Al shakes her head and stops knitting, using her index finger to mark the thread she has to resume from.

“I asked Peter and he told me they chose the name together. He was quite happy about it, so I thought ‘fuck it’ and decided to call him like that too. It would have been rude otherwise.”

“Oh.” Weasel suddenly feels guilty. “He… he didn’t tell me, I thought only Wade called him like that and he went along with it!”

“You never asked.”

“And why should I have?” the engineer exclaims, waving a hand with a frustrated sigh. “He is only an AI and… and I am very confused.”

Blind Al raises an eyebrow above the sunglasses and taps a finger against her knee.

“What did you see anyway? I repeat, you sound like shit.”

“I saw Peter - the _AI_ \- caressing Wade’s face while he slept.”

A weird silence falls into the room, broken only when Blind Al lets out a surprised ‘mh!’ and turns the seat to put her knit set on the desk. She turns back to Weasel and frowns.

“Wade was sleeping?”

“Snoring like a bear.”

“And you saw Peter caressing his face? Are you sure he was doing that?”

“Yeah. When I called him, he jumped away and… God, Blind Al, his face looked so human!” Weasel runs a hand through his short hair and adjusts the too big glasses on his nose. “I never saw an AI with that expression before. He even cleared his throat!”

“I am not an expert, but I can say for sure AIs are not supposed to do that.” She scratches her chin with a skinny finger. “You told me he is a hologram, right? So he can’t feel anything.”

“Yes. He has no consistence, he is just an image. Better than just hearing a voice through the ship.” Weasel groans, staring into the mug and the now cold coffee. “You know what I think, Blind Al? I think Peter wants to touch Wade. To feel him.”

“Is that normal?” the old woman shakes her head, incredulous. “Is he evolving? What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” Weasel shrugs, forgetting she can’t see him. “But you are right. He may be evolving. Just two hours ago I was arguing with Wade about this. I told him he is crazy, that he can’t fall in love with an AI, that it’s just a machine, something programmed to make him feel good, but…”

“But Wade was sleeping this time, he couldn’t see Peter.” Blind Al concludes for him. “So Peter’s action couldn’t bring him any pleasure or happiness.” She sighs, resting her chin on a hand. “Maybe he was just curious…?”

“An AI shouldn’t feel curiosity. Even if it’s just that, it means he is evolving the same.” Weasel finally starts sipping his coffee, grimacing at the coldness of it. “I need to talk with him.”

“Imagine if he really feels something for Wade.” Blind Al chuckles, the sound new and refreshing to hear, because she doesn’t do it often. “Something that isn’t dictated by his programs.”

“I… I can’t think about that right now. I had enough surprises for a lifetime.” Weasel slowly gets up and awkwardly pats the old woman’s shoulder; she smiles amusedly, but doesn’t push him away.

“Uh, thank you, Blind Al. I will let you know if I have news.”

“Maybe Peter isn’t curious, but I am for sure. Come see me as soon as you have something.”

“Of course.”

Peter’s place is in the cockpit, where he can help the commander of the ship in any way he can, but he can be called in every room of the space vehicle that has a hologram circle on the floor. Alternatively, he can be called through the intercom, but nobody on the _Deadpool_ ever does it. Even Weasel and Blind Al prefer to talk to him face to face and the circle is in their rooms, ready to summon the AI when they need him.

So Weasel goes back to his workplace, sits at the desk, ignoring the diagrams and drawings he still has to complete, and calls: “Peter!”

Nothing. He frowns, clears his throat and changes name, hesitantly: “SP616…?”

The circle turns on, bright, and Peter’s image stands elegantly and slightly bowed onto it.

“How can I help you, Weasel?”

“Why didn’t you come when I called you?”

Peter looks surprised, almost worried, and his features express once more a great humanity that Weasel can’t help but stare at.

“I did!” the AI exclaims, anxiously. “Did you call me before and I failed to arrive? I am sorry, I…!”

“I called you ‘Peter’.” Weasel frowns, not because he is annoyed, but because he’s trying to understand what happened. “That is how you like to be called, isn’t it? Yet you didn’t arrive.”

“Oh!” the engineer is _sure_ to see relief passing over the AI’s delicate face. “That’s why I memorized the way people on board call me. Wade and Blind Al refer to me as ‘Peter’, so I come to them when they call me like that. I memorized the way you call me, SP616, my series number, so I wasn’t expecting to hear my nickname from you.”

“You…” Weasel scratches his head, not knowing how to ask this without seeming curious and suspicious. “Did you choose that name with Wade?”

Peter lowers his eyes, his lips curling upwards, and nods.

“He told me he didn’t want to call me like a machine and that I could choose the name I wanted. I picked ‘Peter’ because my creator, mister Ben, loved that name.” For a second, the AI’s eyes seem to become nostalgic. “He always said he would have liked to call his son like that.”

If Weasel was only slightly uneasy before, now he wants to jump into the cosmic space and die there, like the vermin he feels to be right now.

“That’s a good name.” he mumbles awkwardly. “I am sure Wade loved it too.”

“Oh yes!” Peter exclaims, suddenly happy, enthusiastic. “He is very kind! He always makes me feel good and useful.”

“Well, shit.” Weasel chuckles, drumming his fingers on the desk. “I think that’s the best thing someone has ever said about Wade.”

That doesn’t seem to please Peter. He furrows his eyebrows - _‘why did his creator make them so thick, anyway?’_ Weasel thinks distractedly - and tilts his head sideways.

“Is that because he is a mercenary?” the AI inquiries. “Because he kills other humans?”

“Yeah.” Weasel shrugs. “Nobody has a high opinion of mercenaries. Even if Wade goes solo during our missions and Blind Al and I stay here to help him through intercom, we know how people call us. How they call him.” He makes a weird face, as if he tasted something sour. “Murderer. Assassin. Killer. Monster. Mercenaries are not kind and don’t make other people feel good.”

“Wade does.” Peter replies softly. “He is kind with me.”

“You are special.” Weasel gives him a smile, hoping it’s reassuring. He didn’t want to scare or sadden the AI… he didn’t even think he _could_ get scared or sad until now. “You know what he told me a few hours ago? He said you are his best friend.”

“If I was human… if I wasn’t an AI…” Peter fidgets, another action artificial creatures wouldn’t even think about doing. “Would Wade treat me bad? Would he kill me?”

“God, no!”

The engineer springs up from his chair and hurries to repair the damage he has just caused with his words.

“He… is paid to kill certain people, you know it! Clients call, ask us to find someone they want dead and we do it for the right amount of money. But you should know who these people are, Peter. They are criminals, thugs, cruel assholes who put planets and space colonies in danger.”

“I know.” Peter nods again. “The last target was a terrorist.”

“Yes, exactly. Maybe you don’t know what happens when Wade leaves for his missions, but Blind Al and I are always in contact with him, so we do. He never kills innocents. He never kills people that aren’t mentioned in the contract. He is not a beast, for God’s sake. Blind Al and I wouldn’t work with him otherwise.” Weasel thinks hard about the next words to say and finds some that are true, but mild enough for Peter to hear. “He has got quite the fame, though, so people, even innocents, fear him. After all, he _is_ a mercenary and…”

“And he kills people, with your help. Yes.” Peter looks sad again and Weasel sighs. Until a few hours ago, he thought of him as the simple AI of the ship and now he is doing everything he can to reassure him and make him feel better. He is even calling him with a nickname, referring to him like a person!

“He is feared because killing people isn’t nice.” Peter says, announcing it like an universal truth. Weasel can just nod, a bit embarrassed, because it’s thanks to his weapons and gadgets that Wade killed - and still kills - all their targets. He thinks about Blind Al, who knows every part of this Galaxy and often suggested Wade the best route to find and kill someone.

“Humans shouldn’t kill other humans.” Peter continues, but he isn’t reproaching nor judging. “My creator, mister Ben, always told me people should help each other. But I respect Wade and I can understand why he is a mercenary. I know he doesn’t like people very much and that his childhood was very hard. He told me about it.”

He looks down and his voice becomes a whisper.

“Wade is gentle with me, but maybe he does it because I am not human. If I was, maybe he would get tired of me and think of me as an annoying, worthless person.”

“That’s not true. Believe me.” Weasel assures him, shocked by this conversation. He never thought that a simple AI could fear such things, think about its worth or human’s opinion. He remembers the scene he saw in the cockpit and leans in, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his joined hands.

“Wade really loves you.” he says and, as he expected, Peter quickly raises his head and gawks at him.

“He does?” he exclaims and Weasel smiles, nodding again.

“It’s true, he doesn’t like people. He never did and when he got those scars… well, we can only imagine how he feels now.” His smile broadens and Peter’s eyes widen. “But he loves you a lot, not because you are an AI, but because you are his friend. Here, I said it. And I have _no idea_ why I am going to ask you this, but…” He groans, takes off his glasses to rub his eyes, then puts the lenses back on and concludes: “Say, Peter, would you like to become a human?”

The AI looks shocked; on his face there is the same bewildered expression he had when Weasel caught him trying to caress Wade’s face.

“I saw what you were doing earlier.” the engineer gently tells him and he is sure Peter would be blushing right now, if he had a real body. “Do you want to feel him?”

“Every day, he… he tries to hold my hand before napping in front of the console.” Peter murmurs, eyes casted down. He flexes his fingers. “I always wonder how it would feel like to touch him.”

“Why? Are you curious?” Weasel asks, perfectly aware this is the crucial question.

“Not just that. I know he wants to touch me and I want to touch him in return.”

“But why?”

The smile that appears on Peter’s face is timid, sweet and sad at the same time.

“Because I love him.”  
  
  


\- - -  
  
  


Wade is awakened by a stream of not-very-muttered curses pronounced by Blind Al, who is following a restless and impatient Weasel carrying boxes, metallic parts and big, scribbled papers.

“I can’t fucking believe it.” the old woman is grumbling, her cane making a distinct noise on the hard, shiny floor. “This is some Disney shit!”

“Shh!” Weasel opens the door that lead to the main workshop they use to repair the bigger parts of the ship. “It seems _impossible_ , I know, but we have to do this, Blind Al! Can you believe it? Just this morning we considered Peter a simple machine and now…”

“And now he is our friend who asked for our help to get together with our insane boss.” Blind Al grimaces and smacks her lips. “God, I would have never imagined to do this.”

“Me neither.” Weasel giggles, excited and in seventh heaven for the first time in a long time. “I… I don’t know why, but I am feeling super happy, Blind Al! Like… like we are doing something good for once. This is something good, isn’t it? Don’t you feel nice?”

“I feel fucking old and my bones hurt, but every time I hear that poor AI and Wade being and laugh together like two lovebirds my soulless heart gets lighter, yeah.” she admits, albeit grudgingly.

Wade’s sleepy mind didn’t catch any of this, but his sight isn’t blurry anymore and he manages to speak out.

“The fuck are you two doing?” it’s more like a hoarse, low grunt, but Weasel and Blind Al hear him and they sharply looks back at him.

“Nothing.” they reply in unison and close the door behind themselves, leaving him alone.

“Fucking weirdos…” Wade mumbles, stretching his aching limbs. “Petey!”

Peter’s familiar, comforting image appears next to him in an instant and Wade feels immediately better.

“Hey there.” he says with a warm smile, which Peter returns.

“Hi, Wade. Three hours still haven’t passed. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Nah. I am good now. Time to clean some guns and think about the future of unicorns and endangered fantasy animals.”

“You know they don’t exist, right?”

Wade gasps, feigning shock, and falls back on his seat, a hand on his heart.

“Oh, poor me! How can you be so cruel! Have I been lied to for all this time??”

Peter laughs, a sound so natural and good Wade is often tempted to register so he can listen to it before going to bed.

“I am sorry, Wade. I didn’t mean to hurt you and destroy your reality bubble.”

“It’s okay. I love you too much to be angry at you.”

Wade always makes sure to tell Peter how much he loves him. The first time he said those words, he felt like a teenager, a shy kid, but Peter didn’t mock him nor refused him. He smiled and replied he was very happy to hear that.

Then it became easier and Wade, despite a still lingering shyness, repeats those three words at least once a day, hoping to see something arise in Peter’s eyes, a special light that could tell him that, yes, he loves him too.

Peter never said it clearly, but Wade has the impression he feels something for him as well… or at least, that’s what he hopes and he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t stop from searching for that deep, beautiful feeling - the same he feels for the AI - every time he looks at him.

This time Peter’s smile looks brighter, bigger, happier, different and the merc gulps, taken aback. Before he can study it better, the AI says: “If you don’t need my assistance anymore, I would go help Weasel and Blind Al with their next project.”

“Are they finally repairing the ship?” Wade snorts ironically; he is looking at the various screens on the console, so he doesn’t see Peter’s hesitation.

“… Yes.” the AI finally answers and the scarred man smiles at him and jokes: “Go, Petey, I don’t want the _Deadpool_ to explode while we travel through the Galaxy.”

“They are good at what they do. Stop pretending it isn’t true.” Peter reminds him, laughing again. “Don’t worry, I will give them my best advices.”

He winks and disappears with a faint ‘zap’. Wade stares at the azure circle, letting out a dreamy sigh.

A whole week passes and the ship isn’t repaired yet. No client calls, nobody requests Wade’s mercenary skills and his mood becomes worse. He yells at Weasel and Blind Al almost every day, asking about the ship’s conditions, demanding to see their progress, the state of the workshop; they don’t get angry, surprisingly, and patiently explains him they are doing their best, but he must not bother them nor enter, because “you are probably going to break something with those big hands of yours.”. Even Blind Al replies with absolute calm when he growls at her, without complaining about his bad manners, and Wade goes back to the cockpit, whining and fuming on his beloved leather seat while Peter comforts him.

Then, one morning, just when Wade has decided he is gonna fly the ship to the nearest space station to finally buy the food they need, Peter doesn’t appear.

Wade calls him, repeats his name until his voice is hoarse and his throat hurts, but the circle doesn’t turn on and he doesn’t hear the AI’s sweet voice respond to him.

He panics and cries - _cries_ \- when he realizes that something horrible happened. He rushes to the main workshop, sure to find Weasel and Blind Al there; he smashes the button outside the door with a fist and when the panel slides aside, he runs in, panting, tears still shimmering in his eyes.

“Peter…! Peter is…!”

He stops with a gasp, gawking at the table where Weasel and Blind Al are working.

A humanoid robot is laying on it, a robot identical to Peter. Wade can see his open chest and the circuits inside and the face… the face is exactly like he imagined Peter’s human face to be.

He tentatively steps forward, mouth dry, and keeps staring at Peter’s peaceful expression as Weasel explains: “We hoped you wouldn’t have noticed his absence for a little more, but whatever. This is… umh… this is Peter.”

“We moved his chip inside this humanoid robot.” Blind Al continues, finding the table with her hands and placing some tools she was holding on it. “It was hard to build it without letting you know. First we had to order it and all the accessories from a factory, then make sure they would deliver it only when you were sleeping, then start putting all the details.”

“And…” Wade shakes his head, still lost into Peter’s face. He looks so real! He looks human, more beautiful than ever! “And Peter asked you…?”

“We discussed the idea together.” Weasel smiles, rolling his eyes. “Jeez, he had so many requests! His hair and eyes had to be brown because he said you love them that way, he wanted the same thick eyebrows his hologram had and his fingers had to be long and skinny.”

“Also this model had to be accurate in every _anatomical_ part.” Blind Al’s lips quirk upwards and Wade’s eyes move across Peter’s new synthetic body, until he sees what she is talking about and quickly adverts his gaze, blushing.

“Done. The last circuits are connected.” Weasel announces, closing Peter’s chest; the subtle line on his skin disappears as soon as the little cover closes and Peter really looks like a normal, human young man now. Wade swallows loudly and tenses up when Weasel tells him with a smirk: “Come on, call him.”

The merc inhales deeply and calls, his voice trembling a bit: “Peter!”

The AI’s eyes snap open; he slowly sits up, then turns his head and smiles at Wade.

It’s the same beautiful smile he always offered him and the merc lets out a relieved, joyous sigh.

“Hi, Wade.” Peter says and Wade comes closer, his whole mind screaming ‘touch him, touch him!’. He waits, though, eyes lost into Peter’s, and he barely notices Weasel and Blind Al leaving the room with two satisfied, happy grins.

"God, I will have to thank them later. How do I do that? Should I give them a raise? Give Blind Al that wool she wanted so much and Weasel that weird videogame with dragons in it?" he jokes, scratching his bald head, and Peter laughs.

"That would be nice. They did it because they are your friends, though, not because they were expecting something in return." the AI smiles and concludes: "They were very kind with me too. Do… do you like this?"

“Oh, Peter, of course I do.” the merc whispers, fighting the urge to hug him and kiss him. The AI extends a hand, just like Wade did every day to brush their fingers together, and moves it closer to his face.

Wade closes his eyes, leans into the touch and…

And _something_ hits him right on the nose, something sticky and cold.

“H-Hey!” he shouts and hears Peter gasp; he grabs whatever is attached to his skin and pulls it away, grimacing when it makes a ripping sound. Hopefully his face isn’t worse than before.

“What’s this?” he asks incredulously, showing Peter the white, gluey substance in his hand. He almost forgets about it because Peter is blushing - _blushing!_ \- and biting his lower lip, as if he wants to stop an imminent flow of tears.

“I am sorry!” the AI babbles, seizing his right wrist. “I am sorry, it’s a gadget I asked Weasel to install on me, but I still can’t control it well! I-I am sorry, Wade, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“It’s okay, baby boy.” Wade chuckles, throwing the sticky threads on the floor and looking back at him with a fond, amused smile. “Why do you need this stuff though?”

“To help you.” Peter looks down at his wrist and sighs. “I thought I could assist you during missions. I can’t kill people and I may not approve of your mercenary job, but I respect your choice and I want to protect you.”

“Silly Petey.” Wade finally gets closer to him and raises a hand, keeping it one inch away from Peter’s cheek. Their faces are near, now, very near, and even if he can’t feel the AI’s breath on his face, Wade isn’t freaked out, only joyous and eager to make Peter feel good and comfortable.

“Can I try again?” the young man whispers and raises his hand as well; when he brushes it against Wade’s rough, scarred cheek he gasps and his eyes widen, not with disgust, not with horror, but with awe and that feeling Wade always longed to see in his irises.

“You can’t come with me.” Wade whispers, leaning into the warm palm; it’s soft and he kisses it, making Peter gasp again. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I want to help you.” Peter repeats and now his lips are near Wade’s, so chapped and peeled. The scarred man sighs, his fingertips caressing Peter’s cheek; he feels bad, because the texture of his hand is coarse, uneven, probably disturbing.

“I am sorry, Peter.” he murmurs with a sad face and Peter looks up at him with panic. “I didn’t want you to feel this the first time. It’s not very nice, isn’t it? All these fucking scars and… and my skin and…”

“I love them, Wade!” Peter exclaims, taking his hand and entwining their fingers together, pressing his forehead against his. Then Wade sees it again, he sees that special light into Peter’s brown eyes - so gentle and kind, as always! - and he almost chokes on a sob when Peter smiles at him and says:

“I love _you_.”

And when they kiss, they both feel human for the first time in their lives.


End file.
